


Simple Chemistry

by fishpoets



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Assumptions, Gen, M/M, Matchmaking, Mutual Pining, POV Outsider, Peapod McHanzo Week, or is it???, who can say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-02-28 21:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13279881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fishpoets/pseuds/fishpoets
Summary: Hana Song likes playing matchmaker, and what's more, she's good at it. Pairing someone with their ideal partner is like finding them the best character to main - just a case of understanding what would suit them best. Often it comes down to simple chemistry.If Hanzo and McCree don't confess to each other soon, she'll be forced to take matters into her own hands.





	1. Laundry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For peapod mchanzo week, thanks to wyntera and AughtPunk for organising!  
> (is turning up 5 days late fashionably late or out-of-season late? hm..)
> 
> i've mixed up the order of the prompts a bit to fit the story but i do plan to do all of them.  
> so here goes!

 

“Oh my god, Genji, there you are. I've been looking for you _everywhere._ ”

 

Genji, bent over Zenyatta's arm with a tiny screwdriver in hand, looks up. “Here I am. How can I-”

 

“You've _got_ to help me with them, seriously. I don't know how much more of this I can stand.”

 

“Help you with who, exactly?”

 

Hana fists her hands in her hair and tugs. “ _Your brother_ and _cowboy!”_ she hisses.

 

Genji tilts his head. “What about them? Wait, did Hanzo do something?”

 

“No! That's the whole problem!”

 

“..Okay?”

 

She lets go of her hair and smooths it back. “Sorry, I'm interrupting aren't I? You guys are busy, I'll come back later.”

 

“It is fine, Hana, you are always welcome,” Zenyatta says warmly. “This is merely a little routine maintenance. We would both be happy to help with your predicament, if you'd like to start from the beginning.”

 

“Thanks, Zen.” She takes a deep breath and blows it out slow. “Okay. So. I went to go do some laundry...”

 

* * *

 

 

“Are these mine or – no, definitely yours. Look, they barely come down past my knees.”

 

A snort. “Don't exaggerate. Just because your legs are a ridiculous length does not mean mine are short. Certainly not _that_ short.”

 

Just outside the door to the laundry room, loaded basket propped on her hip, Hana closed her eyes and sighed. Those two. They were at it again. She made sure to make plenty of noise as she walked in.

 

“Hey guys.”

 

Hanzo looked up from where he was crouched in front of one of the dryers. “Good morning, Hana.”

 

“And a fine one it is, too,” added Jesse, who was standing right next to him, folding up a pair of jeans. He dropped them into the basket and picked up a red plaid shirt, untangling its sleeve from the folds of a deep blue hoodie.

 

Hana watched from the corner of her eyes as she loaded her own washing into an empty machine. They had a system: Hanzo was unloading the dryer and piling the fresh, warm clothes on top of it; Jesse then picked them up, folded them, and set them into the basket.

 

Just the one basket. But – plaid shirt, blue hoodie – definitely both of their clothes.

 

It made her want to scream.

 

See, here's the thing: Jesse and Hanzo have been smitten with each other for _months._ Hana, as one of the first people who made an effort to befriend Hanzo when he showed up in Gibraltar just over a year ago, has had front row seats to their relationship. Over the passing weeks she's watched as they've grow closer and closer.

 

But never quite close enough. There's a line between them that neither has crossed, despite how much they both obviously want to.

 

The two of them do everything together. Training, talking, drinking. Watching those terrible old movies they both love. They're thick as thieves, partners in crime (or, these days, partners in justice), but not partners in anything else.

 

In her breakout movie role D.Va played a matchmaker – fitting, since she's always had a zeal for it in her real life. She used to pair up her classmates in school; she introduced two of her Army friends; she even showed the two lead actresses in that movie that the spark between them wasn't just a symptom of the characters they were playing. And to this day, all those people are still together.

 

Pairing someone with their ideal partner isn't far off finding them the best character to main in a game. It's just a case of examining their traits and tastes, and understanding what would suit them best. Often it comes down to a matter of simple chemistry.

 

Hanzo and McCree have enough chemistry to power a galaxy.

 

She's seen the looks they give each other, soft and heavy-lidded. She's heard the way they talk about each other to the rest of the team, full of admiration, even pride. She's had to endure way too much of their flirting than is good for her sanity. Watching them do their laundry together was so – so _domestic_ it made her heart hurt.

 

Surely one of them could get his head out his ass long enough to realise how much they meant to each other? You'd think so, but she didn't have high hopes. Last week, when they'd been playing a game together, she'd tried subtly asking Hanzo if there was anyone he was interested in. She'd meant to encourage him, but instead he went all quiet and his face fell blank, and he softly shook his head. So she let the matter drop.

 

Temporarily. She likes them both too much to keep letting them make themselves miserable.

 

If they don't confess to each other soon, she'll be forced to take drastic measures.

 

Forty minutes on the washer. Just enough time to go and recruit some help.

 

* * *

 

 

“So here I am,” she finishes. “You've known them both way longer than I have, Genji; what do you think we should do?”

 

Genji's fans whir. “I'm afraid you've lost me,” he says. “What's so maddening about them putting their laundry in one basket? McCree and I used to do that sometimes back in Blackwatch, after we had missions together.”

 

“Right, but you weren't also suffocating people with your UST,” Hana snaps, frustrated. “At least, not as far as I know.”

 

“No, no, he and I were never... but what does UST have to do with anything?”

 

Hana stares at him. “You've got to be kidding me. Look.” She holds up one fist. “Hanzo.” Holds up the other. “McCree.” Smushes the two fists together. “Like _this_.”

 

She can practically see the buffering symbol over his head. “..Are you saying they should fight? I don't-”

 

Zenyatta finishes closing up the socket in his arm and comes to her rescue. “I believe our friend is saying that Hanzo and McCree would benefit from speaking openly about their romantic feelings towards one another,” he explains, laying his hand on Genji's shoulder.

 

“Oh.” He absorbs this for a moment, before bursting into laughter. “ _McCree_ and my _brother?_ ” he wheezes between cackles. “That is the most insane-! The most-! ...Huh.” He sits up straight. _“Huh.”_

 

“ _Please_ tell me you get it now.”

 

“McCree and my brother. That is... a mildly disturbing idea, but nonetheless also complete genius. Yes, I am with you.” He pats the floor next to him. “Sit, sit. Tell me everything you have planned.”

 

Hana drops cross-legged beside him. “I guess judging from your reaction neither of them has said anything to you.”

 

Genji shakes his head. “Not at all, I'm afraid. In the past Hanzo was never the most receptive to romance, or even the type to consider it much at all, and I fear McCree is not much better. It'll probably take a big push to get them to say anything.” He taps his chin. “Perhaps we could just lock them in a room together until they do?”

 

She huffs a laugh. “I wish that would work! But seriously, if we put too much pressure on them, we risk pushing them apart instead of bringing them together. No, we've got to be strategic.”

 

“Yes, yes.” Genji nods along. “Subtlety. I like that.”

 

Zenyatta weaves his fingers together in his lap. “Do you really think such actions are necessary? I'm quite sure the two of them are already aware of how they feel.”

 

Genji and Hana look at each other, then both break into laughter. “Zen, they must be the only two people here who _don't_ know how they feel!” Hana giggles.

 

“I'm sorry, Master, but she's right,” Genji adds. “I know both of them, and there's no way either of them would admit to any softer feelings without outside help. There's no way.”

 

A dubious hum radiates from Zenyatta's processor. “Well, I suppose we shall see.”

 

 


	2. AU

 

“Alright, here's your controller. And one for you too, Hattori.”

 

Hanzo accepts his with a quiet thanks. McCree, on the other hand, takes it from her with an expression like she's just handed him an angry rattlesnake.

 

“You sure you want me playin' with you?” he asks, holding the controller gingerly with the ends of his fingers. “You wouldn't rather have Lúcio, or Genji or Lena or someone? Hell, I bet Reinhardt would get a real kick outta this.”

 

Hana winces. “We have played with Reinhardt, and he's great! Just, um... a bit... enthusiastic?”

 

“Leeroy Jenkins syndrome,” Hanzo mutters darkly.

 

Jesse frowns. “Leeroy what now?”

 

“It's a long story,” Hana waves her hands. “Doesn't matter. Lúcio's not playing because he's not a fan of MMORPGs – they're too slow and grindy for him – but me and Han can't do much with a party of just two, and we're fed up of teaming up with randoms. So that's why _you're_ here.”

 

“Right.” Under Hanzo's instruction, McCree presses the button that adds his controller to the game. “So, what, do I make a character now, or..?”

 

“Yep.” Hana nudges them both along the couch so she can sit in the free space at the end, sandwiching Jesse in the middle. “I'm a mage, a master of both black and white magic, and Hanzo's our DPS guy, so you could be a Tank build if you want to go defense? Or if you want to try a Healer I can focus on offensive magic for a bit.”

 

“And it would be hard to go wrong with another heavy-hitter,” Hanzo adds, as Jesse looks increasingly confused. “The Fighter class in this game is very versatile, if you are unsure of your preferences. You can always change later.”

 

“Okay. Think I'll go with that, then.”

 

With their help Jesse navigates through the character creation and out into the big wide virtual world: a baby Level 1 Fighter next to Hanzo's Lv53 dual-wield Rogue and Hana's veteran Lv101 Sorceress. Just as Hana expected he picks it up quick, the game's rules and idiosyncrasies only needing one explanation before he understands them. After half an hour he's totally pulled in, relaxed back into the cushions with a grin on his face as he defeats his first party of rabid wolves.

 

Pride simmers in Hana's chest. She loves being the best, obviously, but introducing a newbie to something awesome is a buzz like nothing else. She loves making other people happy.

 

Speaking of, it's time to enact the Plan: the second, more secret reason she invited McCree to join her and Hanzo's game session tonight.

 

She stretches with a sigh, then sinks down against the arm of the couch and swings her legs up so they're lying over the knees of the two men, effectively trapping them. Hanzo, used to this treatment, ignores it like nothing has happened and carries on playing. Jesse grunts.

 

“Hey, bunny, I ain't a piece of furniture, here.”

 

“My knees are stiff,” she tells him, letting out a jaw-cracking yawn. “Sitting like this is more comfy.”

 

He opens his mouth to argue but Hanzo interrupts him. “Don't bother,” he says, “there's no use. Just accept your fate; it's what I do.”

 

Jesse chuckles. “Well if that's what you recommend, I guess I'd best follow suit.”

 

Phase One of the Plan: Success. Now for Phase Two. She gets quieter and quieter as they play, letting Hanzo and McCree carry on the conversation, until they reach a town to stock up on supplies. There, she lets her head tip sideways into the cushions and her eyes slip closed.

 

Distracted with their talking, the two of them actually walk out of town before they realise she's no longer with them.

 

“Should we wake her up?” she hears Jesse ask, his metal fingers tapping anxiously against the plastic controller. “I don't want to, she must be wrung ragged after that last mission, but what if someone attacks her? In game, I mean.”

 

“No, leave her be. If your character is inactive for long enough the game times you out,” Hanzo explains. “She won't lose any progress, don't worry.”

 

“Oh, good.”

 

A few minutes pass with just the contented clacking of buttons before Hanzo speaks, his voice tipped low. “You are enjoying this.” She can hear his smile. “I told you you would.”

 

Jesse laughs. “Yeah, yeah, I admit it, you were right. Not sure I could get into it the way the two o' you do – I get itchy sitting still this long, for a start – but I won't lie, I definitely understand the appeal.”

 

“Good. I'm glad. It has been fun, has it not?”

 

“You know, Han, it really has.” He shifts under Hana's legs. “Thanks for being patient with me.”

 

Hanzo clears his throat. “It was no hardship; you are a good pupil. You are sharp, and you actually pay attention.”

 

“Easy to pay attention with a teacher like you.”

 

There's the little huff of a laugh that means Hanzo's flustered, that usually accompanies his ears going pink. Hana bites the inside of her lip to keep quiet, her heart beating fast. This has to be the moment they confess, surely; they're happy, they're comfortable, they're (pretty much) alone, cuddled together on the couch, complimenting each other like that...

 

Jesse sighs. “It's kinda funny, you and Hana chaperoning me like this. The last time anyone had to look after me was when I joined Blackwatch – which, coincidentally, was about the last time I was so out of my depth.”

 

Hanzo makes an inquisitive noise but doesn't interrupt, so Jesse carries on.

 

“If someone had introduced me to this kinda thing back then I could easily see myself getting hooked – not that I'd've had much time for it. I guess I turned to movies for my escapism instead.”

 

“Is that why you enjoy your westerns?” Hanzo asks. “Escapism?”

 

“In some ways. They're the right mix of realism and the fantastical, you know? Something about that combination just rings true with me. I don't know if I think its something to aspire to – not consciously, at any rate – but... well, I've always found 'em comforting.” He sniffs. “Is it the same kinda thing with your games, or..?”

 

“Nothing so deep as that.” Hanzo says, dry and thin. “I think I merely enjoy being someone else for a while.”

 

Something heavy clumps like clay in Hana's throat.

 

The game music filters back to the title screen. “Do you often think about things like that?” Jesse murmurs. “Alternate realities, parallel worlds where you did things differently? Where you could've become a different man?”

 

“No.”

 

“..Oh.”

 

“I try not to consider such things. What is the point? If in another life I made different choices, if I didn't fail the tests I faced...” A rough sigh. “It changes nothing of the reality of what I have done. Only our actions count in this world.”

 

“Yeah. I guess you're right.” A clack of a controller on the coffee table. The couch creaks as Jesse leans back into it. “Still, if it counts for anything, Hanzo, I'm glad you're here.”

 

“..Thank you. I... I, as well.”

 

Hana wishes, suddenly and viscerally, that she wasn't here, or at least that she was truly asleep. These aren't things she should be hearing. Not without their knowledge. It's a relief when Hanzo's hand wraps around her ankle and gives it a gentle shake. “Hana,” he calls, louder than he'd just been speaking. “Hana, wake up.”

 

She makes a show of waking up, stretching blearily, and rolls off the couch so the two men can get up. As they turn off the console and tidy up she processes the evening, analysing it like she's rewatching one of her battle streams. She definitely intruded, eavesdropping on their conversation – but on the other hand, she's never heard them speak so intimately to anyone else.

 

If she can make this work, it can only be a good thing. Time to regroup and try again.

 

 


	3. Sharing a Bed

 

“'Fraid we've got a bit of a situation, loves,” Tracer says, blinking back into the hall. She laughs as McCree and Hana both tense and reach for their guns. “No, no, not that kind. Seems like a pipe's leaked since this safehouse was last used and water's dripped down into one of the rooms, gotten all over. Made a right mess.”

 

Genji hums. “Are the beds salvageable?”

 

Tracer pulls a face. “Not really. I checked the mattresses and they're still a bit soggy, and the sheets are all musty and gross. Dunno about you lot but I'm not willing to sleep in conditions like that.”

 

“None of us should,” Lúcio adds. “If there's any mould it can cause all sorts of nasty problems – one night shouldn't be too bad, but I still wouldn't recommend it.”

 

Hana snaps her gum to hide a smile; she's just had an excellent idea. This is the perfect opportunity. “Okay, so we're down two beds. How many does that leave us?”

 

Lena counts on her fingers. “Two singles, the double in the end room, and the sofa pulls out – should be enough space for two on that.”

 

“So we're going to have to double up.” Hana glances at Genji to find his visor already turned to her. Apparently they're on the same train of thought. “That shouldn't be too much of a problem. Lúc, you don't mind sharing with Genji, right?”

 

He laughs. “Nah, of course not. We can take the couch. That cool with you, ninja? I don't need much space.”

 

“Fine with me,” says Genji. He tilts his head at Hana meaningfully. “And I guess the two ladies will want the twin room?”

 

Hana smirks. “You're damn right we do.”

 

Lena hops excitedly and claps her hands. “Oh, this is fun! It'll be like a sleepover!” She glances at McCree and pauses, points her thumb at him. “But, hang on – what about the big guys? Won't you be more comfy with the twin room, McCree?”

 

McCree shrugs and opens his mouth but Hana barrels over him. “Too late, cowboy, twin room's taken.” She nudges Lena subtly with her elbow when the other woman frowns at her. “I'm sure you can find a way to manage.”

 

Just then the front door opens, letting in a blast of cold air and and even colder-looking archer, who shuts the door decisively behind him and pulls the bolts across. He stamps the snow off his boots.

 

Genji snorts. “Finally satisfied, brother?”

 

Hanzo lets out a long sigh. “The perimeter seems secure, yes.” He tugs off his gloves and rubs his hands together. “Why are all of you still gathered in the hallway? Is there a problem?”

 

“Nothin' major, just a shortage of beds,” McCree replies. “Apparently you an' I are gonna have to share. Hope that's alright.”

 

Hana watches Hanzo intently for his reaction to this news, but all he does is glance sideways at Genji and frown a bit harder. “I suppose it cannot be helped. Very well. Which room? I'm exhausted.”

 

“I bet. It's just down here, c'mon, I'll show you. Let you get warmed up.”

 

Hanzo follows McCree down the hall and they disappear into the double room. Hana crosses her arms and snaps her gum again. “Huh. That went easier than I expected.”

 

“I think my brother is too cold and tired to put up his usual fight,” Genji says quietly.

 

“Maybe. Orrr, maybe he didn't argue because he's secretly really pleased.”

 

Lena looks back and forth between the two of them and puts her hands on her hips. “Okay, seriously, what's going on?”

 

Hana grins and beckons her close. “We're trying to get them to confess to each other,” she whispers conspiratorially.

 

“Oh!” Lena's brown eyes go wide and round. “Ohhhhh!”

 

“Ha! I knew you were scheming about something!” Lúcio chuckles. “What's the plan, then? Is it working?”

 

Genji shrugs. “Honestly, it's hard to tell. You know how closed-off they can both be.”

 

“Unlike mister cynic here – who didn't even realise how gone they both are until I pointed it out to him - _I'm_ positive it's working,” Hana interjects. “At the moment we're just trying to get them in situations where they can be private and physically close. You guys know how compatible they are; given enough time alone, eventually one of them's _got_ to say _something_. We're just... expediting the process.” She grins. “And what better opportunity than spending a whole night together? Having to warm up after a mission, and sleeping in the same bed?”

 

“Bloody hell, how romantic,” Lena gasps, her face alight with glee. “This is brilliant. I can't wait to see how they're acting tomorrow!”

 

“But we've got to be subtle about it,” Genji warns her. “If either of them starts suspecting what we're doing, we risk scaring them even further apart. Out of stubbornness if nothing else.”

 

She grins and zips her fingers across her mouth. “My lips are sealed.”

 

* * *

 

“What on earth happened last night?” Lena hisses at Lúcio over breakfast the next morning.

 

“Don't ask me!” he whispers back. “I got no clue!”

 

Peering over the rim of her juice glass, Hana narrows her eyes at the two men standing at opposite ends of the counter: McCree cradling a mug of black coffee like a newborn child, Hanzo waiting for the toaster to pop, still looking half asleep. He drifted into the kitchen ten minutes after McCree, grunted at McCree's short greeting, and since then the two of them have proceeded as if the other didn't exist.

 

There's been no flirting, no shy or coy glances or smiles. No sign of any hickeys or marks. Nothing to hint at long-repressed feelings finally being let free. It's like the UST has gone to no-ST overnight.

 

“It feels like it's a year ago and they're not even friends yet,” Lena continues, quietly aghast. “I haven't gone back in time have I? I'm still in the right place, space-time-wise?”

 

“You're fine, Trace.” Lúcio pats her back. “Just 'cause they're not chatting each other up right this second doesn't mean they suddenly hate each other. Maybe they just had a bad night? Or they went right to sleep and didn't have time to, you know, get close? Hanzo did say he was tired.”

 

Or, Hana thinks to herself, one or both of them _did_ confess last night, but in the cold light of day, they're embarrassed to bring the subject back up. Or, worse, one of them made a move without expressing his feelings, they got physical, and now they can't handle it. If someone doesn't help them they're going to keep hovering around each other being all awkward and sad and pining, because neither of them knows how to simply say what they feel.

 

“You know what, love, you're absolutely right,” Lena says, tucking into her eggs and bacon with renewed enthusiasm. “We've got to stay positive. Another chance is sure to crop up soon.”

 

Hana takes a sip of her juice, watching them. She could wait for another chance, true. Or...

 

The toaster pings. Hanzo catches his toast as it flies up – one side barely touched, the other burnt to a crisp – and scowls at it. Jesse flicks his eyes across to Hanzo, wets his lips, and turns away.

 

..Or she could give them more of a push. Evidently they need it.

 

 


	4. Car

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the long wait, depression's been kicking my ass

 

McCree heaves the last bag of groceries into the car and shuts the trunk. “Alrighty. We all set? Nothin' else you wanna pick up while we're in town?”

 

“Nope, I've got everything.” Hana drops her bags into the footwell of the front seat and hops in. “Ready when you are.”

 

“Roger that.”

 

Shopping for Overwatch is an ordeal, one that requires way more tactical planning than it should. The Watchpoint is supposed to be almost empty, after all, only inhabited by a hyper-intelligent sentient gorilla – and though that gorilla can easily eat his own weight in peanut butter, he alone can't account for the sheer amount that twenty-or-so people (and one Reinhardt) can consume in a single week.

 

Their weekly grocery trip is planned like a mission: two or three small teams sent out to different locations, on rotation, so as not to raise any unwanted attention.

 

Hana loves it. Home in South Korea she can't go anywhere without being recognised; it's been years since she's done something as mundane as trudge around a supermarket without anyone bothering her. Here in Gibraltar, all she has to do is put on her reflective sunglasses and leave off her signature pink bunny marks, and no one will know who she is. It makes the whole trip weirdly liberating.

 

She especially likes shopping with McCree. He never fusses about her putting extra snacks in the cart or propping her feet up on the truck's dashboard, and he's always up for diversions to the trip, like getting lost in a bookshop or checking out a new shoe-store's opening sale, or on one memorable occasion, spending the afternoon getting manicures together.

 

Today, though, Hana has other plans in mind.

 

She waits for McCree to navigate out of the narrow back streets where they had to park, and get on to the main road, before she angles in for the attack.

 

“Hey, Mac, can I ask you something?”

 

“Sure.” He smiles at her in the rearview mirror before directing his attention back to the road. “But I reserve the right not to answer, depending on the question.”

 

“It's about the mission. Well, yesterday morning, anyway.” She glances up at McCree. “You and Hanzo didn't have a fight, did you?”

 

McCree barely reacts save to raise his eyebrows. “What? No, what makes you think that?”

 

“You guys were being really quiet yesterday. Even Hanzo was way quieter than usual. Me and the others were wondering if something happened, that's all. Lena was worried you'd fallen out.”

 

“Ah, so that's what all that whispering was about.” He checks the mirrors and overtakes a hovercar that looks old enough to be pre-Crisis, going at least 10km below the speedlimit. “Honestly, it was probably simple tiredness. Neither of us had a particularly restful night. Lots of, ah, tossin' and turnin'.” A pause, then he chuckles warmly. “We ain't like you young things any more. Takes a bit more time for us to recover from a restless night.”

 

Hana fidgets with the charm on her bag strap. “You guys weren't uncomfortable, having to share a bed? I know I kinda snatched the twin room from you.”

 

“I've slept in far worse conditions, and I'll bet Hanzo has too. Don't you worry about it none. The worst thing was it was a chilly one night before last,” he raises an eyebrow at Hana, “and it turns out our friend Hanzo is a bit of a blanket-thief.”

 

“Why does that not surprise me?” Hana grins, grateful to McCree for raising the topic of the archer for her. “Anyway, I'm glad you're not fighting. Hanzo's way more fun when he's not brooding about something. He gets all surly and, like, self-denying when he's upset, like he's not allowed to want things. Know what I mean?”

 

McCree hums. “I've noticed something of the sort.”

 

“It's like, just let yourself live, Hanzo!” She tips her head back against the headrest and lets out an exaggerated, exasperated sigh.

 

The corners of McCree's mouth tilt down – just a fraction, barely noticeable, but there nonetheless. “Hey now,” he chides amiably, casually coming to Hanzo's defense, “not everyone can be _on_ all the time. He's much better than he used to be.”

 

“Oh yeah, for sure. Can we congratulate ourselves for that?”

 

McCree snorts, his lips quirking upwards again. “Somehow I think Hanzo may take umbrage at that.” At the next junction he swings the truck off the main road, past the old, battered brown sign – a relic from Gibraltar's days as a British territory – that pointed tourists towards the Rock. The road gets less busy as it weaves out of the city, the turns gradually getting tighter and steeper as it leads up to the nature reserve and the Watchpoint below.

 

“I'm glad Hanzo's doing better,” Hana admits. “I like him when he's not making himself miserable. He can be really funny sometimes, and he comes up with the _best_ insults. I mean _vicious_. I've had to steal some for my streams because they're that good.”

 

“He's definitely got a sharp tongue.”

 

“Yeah, and people usually deserve it.” McCree barks a laugh and she grins, before looking back out of the passenger window. At the roadside the trees are starting to blossom, scattering the dry mountainside with soft pinks and whites. She lets out a quiet sigh. “And he's like you.”

 

“Like me?” She's surprised him. He actually turns his head to look at her before snapping his focus back to the winding road. “How d'you mean?”

 

She shrugs. “You never talk down to me because I'm young. Hanzo doesn't either.” Her voice softens. “He actually listens if you tell him stuff. And he _remembers_ it.” She twists in her seat to face McCree. “Did you know he did something really cool? He went and got me some _tteokbokki_ chips, on that mission in London a few weeks back. I'd totally forgotten I'd told him I missed them – it was just an offhand comment – but he tracked down an Asian market and found some for me anyway. He brought back so many he must've almost cleared out the store's supply.”

 

McCree's poker face is the best in Overwatch, but even he can't hide the softness in his eyes. “Fella's pretty motivated by his food, that's for sure.”

 

Hana laughs. “Oh yeah. He makes stuff for our game nights sometimes. I think he only knows, like, four recipes, but it's always good. At first I thought, being as fit as he is, he'd be all,” she screws up her face and puts on a deep voice, “'Nothing tasty is allowed! True warriors eat only rice, lean protein and broccoli! Do not sully the temple of your body with garbage!” She grins as Jesse chuckles. “But he's not. I mean, he nags at me about eating too much salt sometimes, but he's cool about it.”

 

She glances at McCree from the corner of her eye. “What I don't get is how he can eat so much cake and sweets all the time and still have such an incredible body.”

 

McCree chuckles wryly and pats his rounded stomach. “He's in better shape than I am, I'll give you that.”

 

“And his arms, am I right? I do weight training twice a week and I still don't know how biceps like that are even possible.”

 

“He let me test out his bow once; let me tell you, the draw on that thing requires some serious strength.”

 

“He let you use Storm Bow?!” Hana exclaims. _And you still can't see how much he likes you?_ “Ugh, jealous! You realise how much of a privilege that is?”

 

McCree hums blithely. “He let me fire one shot, and he was hoverin' over my shoulder like an over-protective mother hen the entire time.”

 

“Still! He'll barely let me even touch it.”

 

“You can understand though, right?” McCree nudges her with his elbow. “Would you let him have free reign of your mech?”

 

Hana crosses her arms. “No way.”

 

“Well then-”

 

“But that's totally different. He wouldn't even fit in the cockpit anyway.”

 

McCree chuckles again. “Whatever you say,” he says jovially, and starts to hum to himself as he carries on driving.

 

Hana watches him in the reflection of the window. This is the problem with McCree, with trying to manipulate the direction of his thoughts without giving her goals away: he's so good at being blandly amiable, he can chat and banter without letting anything slip. Every time she thinks she's found an angle of approach, he manages to amble away from it. Briefly, Hana considers just saying it to him outright: _I know you like Hanzo, way more than friendship. Why haven't you told him yet?_ But she knows all she'll get is a gently confused rebuff, a misdirection – and if she insists, a (polite, of course) putdown and an outright refusal to elaborate, and from then on the topic will be impossible to bring up.

 

The truck's hoverpads hum as they struggle slightly with the steep ascent up the untended road. McCree's fingers tap on the steering wheel.

 

Hana makes one final shot. “So what's your best Hanzo story?” she asks. “You guys drink together a lot; you must have some good ones.”

 

“Stories, huh.” McCree eyes her briefly in the rear view mirror. “Got more about Genji, to be honest, but sure, I could tell a few about Hanzo. Not sure he'd be happy for me to, though.” He smiles, slow and non-threatening, effortlessly hiding the snare beneath. “What's got you so pumped up about Hanzo all of a sudden, anyhow?”

 

She sighs. “Nothing.” The trees peter out as they pass through the old watchpoint gate, now sagging slightly on its hinges and starting to rust. Hana's suddenly gripped by a surge of frustration. “McCree-”

 

“Here we are. Home sweet home.” They pass under an arch of rock into one of the smaller vehicle bays. As soon as McCree's parked the truck he unclips his seatbelt and opens his door, disappearing round the back. “Hey, Zarya,” Hana hears him call across the bay, “you free to help with unloadin'?”

 

Alone in the dark cab of the truck, Hana grits her teeth and bumps her head back against the headrest. Too much time wasted dancing around the point. Next time, she won't be so coy. Maybe Hanzo will be easier to tackle than McCree. Next time.

 

 


	5. Home for the Holidays

 

“What do you _mean_ you haven't seen it!”

 

Hanzo rolls his eyes. “I haven't exactly had time to keep up-to-date on the entire world's cinema,” he says dryly.

 

Hana throws herself down into her pink beanbag chair. “Friendship cancelled!”

 

“I am free to go, then?”

 

Hana whaps him lightly on the arm with the back of her tablet. Laughing, Hanzo raises his palms in surrender. “Ugh, you're the worst,” Hana complains. “Look, this is a modern classic of the rom-com genre, and I'm not just saying that because I'm in it.”

 

Hanzo's own chair rustles as he settles deeper into it. “Of course not,” he deadpans, and dodges out of the way of another whap.

 

“If this friendship is to continue you are duty bound to watch this movie, Shimada Hanzo,” Hana informs him sternly, and presses play before he can give her any more sass.

 

 _Home for the Holidays_ isn't the highest budget or highest grossing film Hana's ever starred in, but it has a special place in her heart nonetheless. Not least because her role – small though it was – was of a professional matchmaker, trying to help unlucky lead character Ji-Soo find The One.

 

The emotional arc of the story centres around Ji-Soo going back to her hometown for _Chuseok_ , the harvest festival, and there she bumps into her childhood friend Chun-hwa. The two women decide to catch up, and end up hitting it off far better than any of the hapless men Ji-Soo dated. A little pushing from Hana's character is all it takes for them to realise they don't just have their experiences in common, but their hopes and desires as well.

 

Hana side-eyes Hanzo as he munches on some of her _tteokbokki_ chips. If only reality would work so easily.

 

“So.” She turns to Hanzo once Ji-Soo and Chun-hwa have found their happy ending, the credits rolling onto screen with a burst of strings. “What did you think?”

 

Hanzo's spine pops as he stretches in his seat. “It was charming,” he says, “if unrealistic. The lead actresses had compelling chemistry.”

 

“They're together in real life, you know.”

 

“Is that so? That doesn't surprise me.”

 

“Yep, and _I'm_ the one who got them together.” Hana rolls over in her beanbag and pokes his arm. “Anyway. What do you mean, it's unrealistic?”

 

Hanzo frowns at the screen. “Real relationships are never that serendipitous.”

 

“You would think that, you cynic.” Hana sighs. “It's not like Ji-Soo and Chun-hwa didn't have problems or need any help. But I get it. Sometimes life really sucks, and sometimes people really suck. That doesn't mean good things are unrealistic. They _do_ happen, you know.” She pokes him again. “You've just got to be brave enough to _act_ on the good things when they're _sitting_ _right in front of you._ ”

 

For some reason a worried expression flickers across his face. He clears his throat and shifts. “Hana, I... I am sorry.”

 

Wait. What? “Sorry? Why?”

 

He grimaces and looks away, as uncomfortable as she's ever seen him. “I'm flattered, Hana, but – our friendship means a lot to me, and I'm twice your age-”

 

“Wait wait wait. Wait. What are you talking about.”

 

Hanzo's brow furrows even deeper. “What are _you_ talking about? Are you not saying that you-”

 

Realisation hits her like a MEKA landing on her head. “Ohhh no. No, no no no no.” She laughs, a litle hysterically. “ _Hell_ no.”

 

He goes abruptly slack and shuts his eyes. _“Aa, yokatta.”_

 

“Okay, now I feel like I should be offended.”

 

“Don't be.” He rubs his hand over his face. “We both know you are far out of my league.”

 

“Pfft. Nice save.”

 

Hanzo pushes his hand up over his scalp, smoothing back his loose hair, and lets out a long breath. “I hesitate to ask,” he starts, still not looking at her, “but – what _did_ you mean, precisely?”

 

“Come _on_ , Hanzo, you're not stupid. Don't act like you don't know.”

 

His jaw tenses as he grinds his teeth. Hana loses her patience. “McCree. I'm talking about McCree. You know, the cowboy you have a huge crush on? The one you should've asked out, like, six weeks ago?”

 

Hanzo looks up at the tv, the film now back to its menu screen. “I see.”

 

“Do you? Because you're being so stubborn-”

 

“I see now why you were so keen on me watching this film.” He flicks his hand at the screen. “You intend to – to set us up, to play matchmaker, like you did with your fellow actresses.”

 

“Yeah, I do.” Hana crosses her arms and raises her chin. “And just maybe make you _happy_ , what a concept.”

 

“Not everyone appreciates having their personal affairs meddled with, Hana.”

 

She pushes out of her chair so fast it falls over. “This isn't just a _kick_ for me, you know!” she snaps, fists quivering at her sides. “Do you know how many families I've seen get torn apart? Do you? Back home everyone has lost loved ones, to the Crisis or the giant omnic. I've lost my squadmates, my friends, my-” A sharp breath. “Everywhere you look there's children without parents and lovers without partners. It's the same here in Overwatch, isn't it? Each day we wake up and have to deal with the knowledge that, for us or for someone we care about, this day might be the last. And I know what you're thinking: all the more reason not to get attached, right? But you're wrong. It's why we should take every good thing from life that we can. And if I can help other people be happy too then you bet your ass I'm gonna do it, whether you approve or not.”

 

The grim set of Hanzo's expression softens. “I apologise, Hana,” he murmurs. “Sometimes I forget how strong you are.”

 

“You're lucky I put up with you.”

 

“Yes, I am.” He sends her a small smile. “Even so, it is not your responsibility to bring happiness to the entire world. Such a thing is too large a burden. Impossible, I fear, even for you.”

 

Hana huffs a shaky laugh and wipes her eyes. “Doesn't mean I can't try.” She nudges Hanzo's foot with her own. “Especially when a friend is self-sabotaging because he refuses to acknowledge that he could have something amazing. Because he's afraid.”

 

Hanzo flicks his eyes up to hers before he closes them again, and rubs at the bridge of his nose. “You are insistant about this.”

 

“I can be just as stubborn as you.” When Hanzo doesn't say anything she sighs, puts her beanbag chair back the right way up and sits back down next to him. “Look, Hanzo,” she says, “if you'd just _talk_ to him-”

 

“Hana-” He raises a hand. “I understand, but – I truly do not wish to discuss this right now. Please.”

 

“Okay, okay. We don't have to. But soon, yeah?”

 

He nods. “Soon,” he agrees.

 

If only she could believe him.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'yokatta' literally means 'was good', but in this case hanzo's saying it in relief, in the same way you might say 'thank god' or 'thank goodness' in english


	6. Mission

 

“Genji,” Hana moans, collapsing on the floor next to the cyborg, “nothing's working.” His visor tilts towards her, enough to show he's listening, but he doesn't stop running the whetstone across the blade of his _wakizashi_ in smooth, rhythmic strokes. The repetition of it is weirdly calming, so Hana is content to watch. “I don't know how you've dealt with the two of them for so long,” she finds herself muttering. “They're both so – so _stubborn_ , and wrapped up in their heads all the time, and I can't...”

 

At this, Genji does stop. “What's this? The great D.Va admitting defeat?”

 

She scowls at him. “I never give up.”

 

“Of course you don't. So.” He tests the edge of the blade and, satisfied, slides it back into its _saya_. “What are we going to do?”

 

Hana sighs. “Short of just sitting them both down and telling them outright, I'm running out of ideas.”

 

“Why not do that, then?”

 

She wrinkles her nose. “Kind of anticlimactic, isn't it.”

 

“Easier.”

 

“ _Boring.”_

 

Genji shrugs. “My vote is still for locking them in a room together until they confess.”

 

Hana pauses. She rolls over, sits up, and _thinks_.

 

“You know what, Genji? I think you might be right.”

 

* * *

 

“Alright team.” Hana looks up over her laptop at the faces around her. “Let's go over our roles one last time. Tracer: your job is to get McCree into the ammunitions storage room at 3pm sharp.”

 

Lena salutes. “Sir yes sir! Easy peasy!”

 

Hana turns to Genji. “Green Sentai. The same, but with your brother.”

 

“He will be suspicious, but he will follow.” Genji bows his head. “Consider it done.”

 

“Once both targets are in position, you're to retreat immediately. Then we shut the door and lock it from the outside, and _bam,”_ she claps her hands together, “we've got them trapped right where we want them.”

 

Lúcio looks up at the ceiling. “You're still cool with this, right, Athena?”

 

The AI sounds almost amused. _Barring the event of fire, injury, hostile attack on the Watchpoint, or immiment suffocation, I am happy to ignore protocal and keep the door shut for an hour,_ she replies.

 

Lúcio holds his hand to his heart. “Thanks, Athena, you're a star.”

 

Hana clears her throat. “ _Lúcio_ , you and I will be manning the drones.”

 

He laughs. “Aye aye, captain.”

 

“Right.” Hana stands up, hands on hips, and surveys her group of trusted comrades. “We've only got one shot at this,” she says solemnly. “Let's make it count.”

 

* * *

 

Hidden in an empty storage room across from the one they're using for ammunition, Hana watches Athena's surveillance video on her screen, following Tracer and McCree as they walk down the hall. Everything seems fine on that front: Tracer's cover – that some of her pulse ammo has been missorted and put up on too high a shelf, and she can't reach – is believable, and McCree seems amiable, happy to help, and completely unsuspecting of any ulterior motives.

 

Hana switches to another screen. A little further away, Genji is having more trouble. He's taken the angle of annoying little brother, whining that _there's something you need to come and see, nii-chan, come on! It's funny and you'll miss it!_ Hanzo is still standing with his arms crossed and eyebrows raised, and his feet firmly planted on the floor.

 

Hana bites her nail, but then Genji wheedles some more – and Hanzo sighs, rolls his eyes, and finally lets his brother drag him down the hall.

 

“Both targets on the move,” Hana whispers into her comm. She watches Tracer leads McCree into the munitions storage just as Hanzo and Genji turn the corner into the corridor. “Target A is in position. Target B, ETA twenty seconds. Get ready.”

 

“Ready and waiting,” Lúcio replies.

 

Feet tap a few feet from Hana's hiding spot as the Shimadas walk down the corridor. They enter the storage. A second later, Tracer blinks out in a rush of blue, followed hot on her heels by Genji's green.

 

“Go, go, go!” Hana hisses. “Lúcio, the door!”

 

“On it!”

 

She bursts from her hiding spot just in time to catch a glimpse of Hanzo's angry face, before Lúcio and Genji push the door closed and the locks _beep_ into place.

 

 _Autolock engaged_ , Athena chimes smugly.

 

Tracer whoops and hops to give Genji a high-five. “Go team!” she giggles, then stops wide-eyed as a furious banging starts up on the other side of the door.

 

“Calm down, old man,” Hana mutters. She passes Lúcio her spare tablet. “Here, Lúc. You control our drone on this side, I'll deal with the one in there.” She activates the small pink drone she'd stashed in the munitions room earlier, makes sure it's still synced with the one hovering by her side, and turns on the camera feeds. The drone bobs in front of her, bleeps, and a moment later McCree and Hanzo's unimpressed faces pop up on its holoscreen.

 

“Hana!” Hanzo snaps, so loud she can hear it through the thick security door before an echo of it comes through the speakers. “What is the meaning of this!”

 

She tosses her hair. “An intervention,” she says. “This has gone on long enough.”

 

“An _intervention-!_ ”

 

McCree puts a hand on Hanzo's shoulder, halting what would no doubt have been a blistering tirade. “Alright, what're you playin' at?” he says, his voice low but just as dangerous as the archer's. “I'm real fond of y'all, Hana, but you should know I don't appreciate bein' messed around, and I doubt Hanzo here likes it much either.”

 

“ _I don't._ ”

 

Genji steps in. “Brother, McCree, listen, we mean well. ..Mostly.” He raises his hands when Hanzo snarls. “Okay okay, no teasing, but just hear her out, please?”

 

Hanzo and McCree exchange a glance. McCree tilts his head and shrugs one shoulder, and some of the stiffness drops from Hanzo's spine. “Fine,” he snaps. “Make it quick.”

 

Hana squares her shoulders. In the past, would you believe, people have been _happy_ to receive her romantic advice. Never before has she had a matchmaking conversation that felt so much like facing down enemy fire. “After the other night, Hanzo, you must know what this is about,” she says. She turns to McCree. “And Mac, I'm sure you can guess. It's been _ages_ of this, guys, and honestly I've reached the end of my patience.”

 

All those weeks of tension, all those glances and bitten-back words, all those hours she's had to suffer through their suffocating pining – it's finally about to come to a head. Behind her, Hana can feel Lena almost vibrating with excitement.

 

“I'm gonna give you one last chance to sort this out before I do so myself. So. Do either of you have anything you want to say to each other?”

 

The two men barely react. Hana sighs. “I hope neither of you has plans for the afternoon, because at this rate you're not gonna make them.” She crosses her arms. “Don't bother testing me. I can wait all day.”

 

The heavy, silent pause drags out from awkward into tense, and only then does McCree decide to break it. He rocks back on his bootheels and whistles a low note, sways into the archer's space, and looks down at him. Hanzo looks up, and McCree gives him a small, encouraging smile.

 

And it's right then, in that tiny, seemingly insignificant moment where their eyes meet, that a suspicion creeps into the back of Hana's mind and starts pointing out details at lightning speed. The glance. The smile. How close they're standing, much closer than they need to fit in the frame of the drone's camera. The way they seem to be communicating without words.

 

“Wait.” Lúcio glances at her in concern at her tone, but she ignores him. “Wait, you can't be serious.”

 

McCree nudges Hanzo with his elbow. “You gonna tell 'em or should I?” he says quietly.

 

Hanzo works his jaw a moment before he exhales heavily. He nods, turns to face the camera, and squares his stance. “I should have told you this before, Hana,” he starts.

 

“You _can't_ be _serious_.”

 

“Jesse and I... are already together,” Hanzo confirms, lighting a match to the pyre.

 

The noise that escapes past Hana's grit teeth doesn't sound human, only drowned out by Lena's loud, happy exclamation. Lúcio puts his hands on her shoulders.

 

“Been a couple months now,” McCree adds helpfully.

 

“Aww, really?” Lena coos, as Lúcio starts chuckling. “That's so great, loves!”

 

“ _Months?!”_ Hana shakes Lúcio off and points angrily at the screen. “You've got to be kidding me! You! _You-!!”_

 

McCree holds up his hands peaceably. “Now hold on, Hana, before you get mad-”

 

“Why didn't you _say anything?_ ” She doesn't give them time to answer. “Hanzo! I can't believe you didn't tell me! I asked you specifically about McCree, and you totally avoided the question. I can't believe this whole time you've been already dating!”

 

Hanzo clears his throat. “I wouldn't call it dating.”

 

“What?” McCree blinks down at Hanzo. “The hell would you call it, then?” he asks.

 

Hanzo shrugs. “A relationship? 'Dating' sounds too...” He pulls a face. “Besides, when have we ever even been on a date, Jesse?”

 

“I can count three we've been on this week alone.” At Hanzo's puzzled expression, McCree counts them off on his fingers. “There was our laundry date; our mission date, all cosy in that safehouse; I guess game-night-date only counts as half, since that was mainly you n' Hana's thing-”

 

By now Hanzo is smiling. “Those are not _dates._ ”

 

“Sure they are. Anything can be a date with the right company.”

 

Behind Hana, Genji mutters something in Japanese that sounds equal parts grossed out and vaguely murderous, but Lena _awws_ softly. “So it's really true?” she says, popping up over Hana's shoulder. “You two have been all funny around each other because you've been hiding a relationship?"

 

Hanzo closes his eyes and lets out a long breath. “It is true, yes.”

 

“So it wasn't UST after all!”

 

McCree barks a laugh and throws his arm around Hanzo's waist. “Oh, I'd say our tension's plenty resolved, wouldn't you, hon?” His grin widens when Hanzo elbows him.

 

Genji makes a strangled noise in his throat. “Okay, I think I have heard enough. Brother, feel free to come by later to kick my ass.”

 

“Oh, I will,” Hanzo promises darkly.

 

“Great. Cool. I'm leaving now. Bye.” With that, and a little wave, Genji takes off down the corridor.

 

Hana watches him leave before she turns back to the two men: the source of weeks of aggravation that, it turns out, has all been for _nothing._ She takes a deep breath and counts to ten. “Athena,” she says tightly, “let them unlock the door, please.”

 

The AI obliges, and a moment later McCree's pushing open the door, waving Hanzo to go ahead of him. The door shuts, and the five of them remaining look at each other, no one quite sure what to say now the script has been so thoroughly discarded.

 

Lena is the first to break the silence. “Welp,” she pipes, bouncing on her toes, “this got pretty awkward.”

 

“Yeah, no kidding.” Lúcio rubs the back of his neck. “Hey, guys, we're sorry. I think we might've got kinda carried away.”

 

“But all's well that ends well, right?” Lena's grin is tentative. “..Right?”

 

McCree touches Hanzo's back and leans subtly closer into his side. “Tell you what. You take over our dish washing duties for the next couple weeks, and I think we can consider this whole thing water under the bridge. Right Hanzo?” Hanzo grunts. “But no runnin' off and yappin' at the others, alright? We want to share the news at our own pace.”

 

“Oh, for sure, absolutely.” Lúcio pats Lena's arm and tugs her gently away from a still scowling Hana. “Maybe we should leave 'em to it, yeah?” he says to her quietly, and gives Hanzo and McCree one last apologetic smile. “Congrats, guys.”

 

Lena grins and gives a double thumbs up before she follows Lúcio down the hall, and then it's just Hana, her drones, and the two men standing side by side.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	7. A Series of Dates

 

“So,” Hana says snippily, frowning at the two men standing before her. _This is good news_ , a little voice in her head reminds her, as McCree drops his arm from Hanzo's back to take up his hand. _This is what you wanted, remember?_ “I hope you're both _really happy_ with yourselves _._ ”

 

“We are,” Hanzo replies, quiet and earnest. He squeezes McCree's hand. “We are, Hana.”

 

It's enough to chase away all her lingering frustration and really _look_ at them: these two middle-aged killers, these wanted men, standing together holding hands, waiting for her approval.

 

She sighs, rubbing her temples. “I still wish you'd just _told_ me.”

 

“We had been talkin' about it,” says McCree. “We were plannin' on telling all y'all pretty soon; you kinda beat us to the punch, here.” He scratches his beard with his free hand. “Probably would'a said something sooner if we knew how, er... _invested_ y'all were gettin'.”

 

Hana runs her fingres through her hair and winces. “Yeah. I guess I must've come across as pretty crazy, huh?”

 

“Driven. Motivated,” Hanzo amends. “Not crazy. You were correct, after all, at least in part.”

 

“I was _totally_ right.” She huffs a laugh. “Still. Now I know you guys are already together, it all seems really obvious in hindsight. A couple of months already, huh?”

 

“Yeah.” McCree looks down at Hanzo's ducked head with a fond smile. “They've been good'uns.”

  

* * *

 

Jesse frowned as he balled up a pair of socks and tucked them into the almost overflowing laundry basket. “Think something's botherin' Hana? She seemed kinda... I dunno. Agitated.”

 

“Yes, I noticed that too.” Hanzo wiped his palms on his thighs and stood, nudging the dryer door closed with his knee. “Perhaps her stream last night went poorly?”

 

“Hm, I'm not sure. She was givin' us a _look_ , you know the one.” Jesse narrowed his eyes and pursed his mouth.

 

“A bad Zoolander impression, you mean?” Hanzo smirked when Jesse elbowed him, but the smile quickly fell from his face. He picked some dryer lint from under his nails. “Do you think she has figured it out?”

 

“Hard to say. Someone's bound to eventually, and Hana's a smart cookie.” Jesse wrapped his flesh hand over Hanzo's, stopping him before he could tear open his cuticles. “I know we agreed to keep this quiet, take it slow, and I don't wanna pressure you none, darlin', but...”

 

“We should consider telling them soon?”

 

Jesse shrugged. “Some folks might feel a bit hurt if we leave them in the dark too long, is all.”

 

Hanzo sighed. “Yes, I know. Hana included. And my brother.” He squeezed Jesse's hand. “I do not think I am ready quite yet, but I admit, having had time to grow accustomed to it, I am far more comfortable with the idea of this not being private than I once was.”

 

“That's good to hear.” Jesse's smile softened his whole face. “But we don't need to worry about it right now. Anyway, back to more urgent matters...” He held up a scrap of black cotton. “Are these my boxers or yours?”

 

* * *

 

“You alright?” Jesse asked, after they'd dropped a sleepy Hana off at her room and continued down the hall. “Didn't mean to drag the mood down at the end, there.”

 

Hanzo huffed. “I am quite sure I managed that well enough on my own.” He reached out and tangled his fingers with Jesse's. “It was a... sore subject you raised. But I meant what said.”

 

“Hm? Which part?”

 

“That I am content.” Hanzo looked up at him and smiled in that quietly self-assured way that always got Jesse's heart beating fast. “I can never know what life I may be leading had I made different choices. All I know is, despite my regrets, this life has led me here. To you. And there is nowhere else I'd rather be.”

 

Jesse's lips wobbled. He swallowed thickly. “Darlin',” he said, his voice rough, “I think that might be the loveliest thing anyone's ever said to me.”

 

Hanzo grunted and looked away, his face going pink. “Don't start.”

 

Jesse grinned. “The sweetest, _corniest_ thing-”

 

“Be silent.”

 

“-I have ever heard! Honeybee, where've you been hiding such poetry all this time?”

 

“I said-” Hanzo opened his door and pulled Jesse inside, crowded him back against the door as soon as it slid shut, leaned in close, “ _silent,_ ” and stopped Jesse's grin with a kiss.

 

* * *

 

“Here we go.” Jesse held the bedroom door open for Hanzo and shut it quietly behind him. “Not much, but unless you'd rather sleep on a damp, mouldy mattress I'm afraid this is the best I can offer.”

 

Hanzo propped his bow and quiver carefully against the wall next to the bed – a queen, only just big enough to fit the both of them. “Oh, no,” he sighed, unzipping his jacket and pulling it off. “We have to share a bed. However shall we cope?”

 

Jesse grinned. “Such sarcasm.” He stepped up behind Hanzo and wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling into the bristles behind his ear. “Aw, honey, you're all chilled. Any longer in that snow and I'd be worried about bits droppin' off.”

 

Hanzo snorted, leaning back into him. “My _bits_ are still perfectly intact, I assure you.” He weaved his fingers between Jesse's and dragged his palm down his stomach. “But you are free to check for yourself.”

 

“Why, Mister Shimada, that's mighty forward of you,” Jesse murmured into his ear. He brought his free hand up to knead at Hanzo's chest.

 

“ _Someone_ said they would get me warmed up,” Hanzo retorted, arching into his touch. “Do you intend to go back on your word?”

 

“Oh, darlin',” Jesse growled, “there's not a snowball's chance in Hell of that.” He pushed their linked hands lower. Hanzo let out a quiet gasp and tipped his head back on to Jesse's shoulder. “Hush now, we don't want the others hearin'--”

 

He broke off with a bitten-down yelp.

 

“ _Jesus fuck_ your nose is freezing!”

 

In his arms, Hanzo shook with laughter.

 

* * *

 

“God- fuckin'- argh, stay in there, damn you-!”

 

Jesse pushed the little multicolored boxes back as far as they would go, but it was no use. There simply wasn't enough room in the cupboard. Who needed so many different flavors of tea, anyhow? Why did so many even exist? What was so wrong with sticking to good-old plain black coffee, brewed strong enough to give you a stroke?

 

The box of Earl Grey he was holding was rescued from his prosthetic hand before he could mangle it beyond recognition.

 

“Having some trouble?” Hanzo asked, peering over his shoulder with a gorgeously infuriating, amused little smile.

 

Jesse sighed and leaned his forehead against the edge of the open cupboard door. “I can't fit all these damn tea boxes in the damn cupboard,” he grumbled.

 

Hanzo's gaze flicked down Jesse's body. He glanced around at the empty kitchen, then looked back to Jesse's face with a dirty smirk. “I would've thought by now you would be used to making things fit in tight spaces.”

 

Jesse groaned. “Don't start.”

 

Hanzo chuckled and patted his shoulder. “I can take mine to my room, if it helps. Did you-”

 

“Yeah, I got the jasmine stuff you like.” Jesse fished the right box from the cupboard and swapped it for the Earl Grey, then rummaged some more amongst the boxes. Where did he put... aha. “Picked up this, uh, raspberry and strawberry one for ya, too? Dunno if you'll like it but I thought it sounded interestin'.”

 

Hanzo took it from him and examined the box. “You didn't have to do that.”

 

“Yeah, well. I wanted to.”

 

“Thank you.” He looked up. “Are you alright? You seem...”

 

“Seem what?”

 

“More aggravated than groceries should warrant. Did something happen?”

 

“Nah, it's nothin'.” Jesse pushed the boxes back one last time and shut the cupboard door firmly. At Hanzo's raised eyebrow he shook his head. “It's stupid.”

 

Hanzo kept watching him. Jesse sighed and rubbed his face, then lowered his voice. “Has Hana... _said_ anything to you?”

 

“Hana?” Hanzo frowned. “Nothing out of the ordinary. Why?”

 

“She kept talkin' about you in the car. Real one-track minded, like.”

 

“And?”

 

Jesse scratched at his cheek in agitation. “I mean she was _talkin'_ about you,” he hissed. “Isn't Hanzo nice, McCree? Oh, Hanzo's so fit, Hanzo's so muscular, Hanzo's got – and I quote – an ' _incredible body'_.”

 

Hanzo shrugged. “She is not wrong.”

 

“True, but – that ain't the point, Han!”

 

“You are reading too much into things.” When Jesse opened his mouth to protest, Hanzo laid his fingers over his lips. “And what you are insinuating is absurd. Hana views me as a friend and a colleague, and that is all.”

 

Jesse pouted. “Ain't that absurd. Anyone in their right mind would have a crush on you.”

 

Hanzo smiled, stroking his fingers through the scruff on Jesse's chin. “I think you are biased in that regard, _koibito._ ” He tugged at Jesse's beard. “Now come. Perhaps I can put your mind at ease.”

 

* * *

 

McCree's door unlocked with its familiar click at almost 2am.

 

He sat up in bed and grinned at the shadow stepping into his room. “There you are,” he murmured, pleased. “I was startin' to think you weren't gonna drop by after all.”

 

Hanzo didn't say anything. He shut the door behind him, crept across the room and sank into Jesse's waiting embrace.

 

Jesse pulled him close. “Hey now, pumpkin, what's the matter?”

 

Hanzo pushed away and swang his legs around to sit at the edge of the bed. He palmed his face and sighed. “I am a fool.”

 

“News to me,” Jesse said neutrally, forcing down the urge to comfort. Whatever was bothering Hanzo, he'd learned it was best to let him approach the issue in his own time.

 

Sure enough, after a couple of minutes some of the tension dropped from Hanzo's shoulders. “I had the perfect opportunity,” he muttered, “and I wasted it.”

 

Jesse hummed. “What's this about, hon?”

 

“Hana knows.” Another folorn sigh. “Rather, she knows of our – our feelings for one another, and she is trying to...” he waved a hand.

 

“..Set us up?” Jesse guessed, filling in the blanks.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Ah. That explains why she's been acting so funny as of late.”

 

“Not a crush on me, as you thought,” Hanzo teased, then a pained expression crossed his face. “But let us not speak of that. She confronted me about how I felt. It was the ideal moment to tell her about you and I, and yet, I...”

 

Jesse shuffled closer. He let his hand rest in the small of Hanzo's back. “You?”

 

Hanzo splayed his hands. “Instead I panicked and shut her down.” He sighed again and pulled his hair loose from its tie. “Now, on top of everything else, I feel like I have lied to her.”

 

Jesse rubbed circles up his spine until he could sink his fingers into his thick dark hair. “You're alright, darlin', trust me. Ain't the end of the world. Not even close.” Hanzo leaned into him. He coaxed him back into his arms and lay them down amongst the pillows. “If it's making you feel this bad we'll tell her soon, yeah? We can tell as many people as you're comfy with. Get this little secret out into the open before it starts to fester.”

 

Hanzo's grip tightened for a moment, then went slack. Slowly, he nodded. Jesse stroked his hair, smoothing out the kink from his ponytail. “It'll be fine, you'll see. Folks'll be nothin' but happy for us.”

 

Finally, Hanzo relaxed, melting into the line of Jesse's body. “I will trust your judgement.”

 

“Thanks, sweetheart. I won't let you down.” He kissed the top of Hanzo's head. “Now. You sleepin' here tonight or are you headin' back?” Hanzo grunted and wrapped his arms tighter around Jesse's stomach. Jesse chuckled. “Alright, guess that answers my question,” he said, and reached down to pull the covers up over them both.

 

* * *

 

Hanzo looks up to meet McCree's eyes and smiles. “Yes, it has been good,” he murmurs.

 

A burst of emotion swells in Hana's chest. This, this is why she does what she does. Those expressions on their faces, the knowledge of their joy – it makes all the hardship worthwhile. She lurches forward, drags them both into a tight hug. “I'm so happy for you two,” she says, blinking back the heat in her eyes. Hanzo pats her on the back awkwardly. She sniffs and steps away, then whaps them both on the chest. “Seriously though. You guys owe me _so big_ for putting me through all this, you have _no idea._ ”

 

She snatches the handkerchief McCree holds out to her and wipes her face. “Ugh. Whatever. I'm totally done with this whole thing.”

 

Hanzo's brow furrows. “Are we still on for tomorrow?” he asks, tentative. As if she'd ever say no.

 

Hana rolls her eyes and smiles. “Duh, of course. I'm know I'm the best, but adventuring by yourself is so boring. Besides, what's a mage without her meatshield?”

 

The whole line of Hanzo's body softens. She pats his arm. “Anyway, I think I need to go sit down somewhere for a while and reevaluate all my life choices. You boys have fun.” She walks off, calling over her shoulder; “Don't do anything I wouldn't do!”

 

At the end of the corridor, just before she turns the corner, she stops for a moment and looks back. The two of them are still holding hands, both hands this time, turned to face one another. From this angle she can't see Hanzo's expression, but McCree's is soft, his eyes tender, and when Hanzo leans up to kiss his jaw his smile blooms wide and happy.

 

Satisfaction curls warm in Hana's heart.

 

Maybe they never needed her help after all, but she's going to count this one as a win anyway.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaand that's a wrap. thanks for reading this silly, silly thing, even though there was no actual mchanzo content until the end :p
> 
> happy valentines ♥


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